Page Chasers 1, Compasses and Lifesize Insects
by GreenWallsOfArt
Summary: After Richard Tyler recieves a mysterious gift from Mr. Dewey at the library, he discovers a whole new way of enjoying each book he reads, with the help of some old and new friends.  First of a planned series.
1. The Compass

**Chapter 1**

"Go for it! Go for it!"

The ball flew through the cloudless sky, circling around with startling speed, approaching the spring grass like a torpedo.

Not having any time to adjust his glasses, Richard Tyler jolted his glove further onto his hand, and darted across the grass. He stretched his legs in giant strides, just as his gym teacher had taught him. He loved the feeling while he ran, catching up to the baseball that soared above his head.

Now, it was hovering just inches from his open hand. Richard stretched his arm, but he couldn't catch the ball. It missed his fingers, so he had to dive. Balancing the ball on the tips of his fingers, Richard felt the moist spring grass soak into his shirt, but he stood back up, triumphant, while the ball rolled comfortably in his palm.

"I got it, Travis!" he called.

"Cool, Richard!" his friend screamed back.

"You actually_ dive_ for the balls now!" another boy called. "Gym class will be interesting now!"

By the time Richard got to his feet, Travis raced over to him and patted his back, sharply but playfully. "Geez, what planet did you come from, Richie?" he asked. "Last month you absolutely wouldn't come out on the playground, and now you're diving for your life in ball games with us."

"Actually, I always sat by the trees," Richard answered meekly.

"Whatever," Travis said. "What counts now, Rich, is that you're actually normal after all. And we like that."

"Wanna' play another catch round, Tyler?" a boy called to Richard and Travis.

"Sorry, guys," Richard said. "I gotta go return some books to the library." He started towards his schoolbag, lying on the grass next to his friends' against the school building.

"You're a nerd, Rich," Travis muttered. "But you know, it doesn't matter. We keep playing those games, and we're going to kick some butt during gym class, I tell you what! So, game after school tomorrow?"

"Okay, Travis," Richard answered, slinging his bag across his shoulder. "See you later."

Travis waved before he ran back to join the other boys in their ball game. As Richard walked around the school to the bike racks, he heard his friends crying out and laughing, while the ball whooshed once more through the air. Richard wished he could stay and play, but it had taken him forever to read those books in his bag.

And Mr. Dewey probably wouldn't allow him another renewal on them. The old librarian was far too strict that way.

Still, Richard liked his after-school trips to the library. The library in question was a strange and ancient-looking building, hidden away between the trees at the back of the city park. It was unlike anything Richard had ever seen before, and was always disappointed on days that he wasn't able to go there.

Since about a month ago, Richard had came from playing ball with his new friends, straight to the library, where he sat and did his homework, or just wandered through the aisles looking for something to read. There was something magical- indescribable, for lack of a better word- about that place, and he made sure to spend as much time there as he could. And with a librarian like Mr. Dewey running the library, it was truly as otherworldly a place as one could get.

Richard strapped on his helmet, and kicked back the bike's kickstand, before he started pedaling down the warm sidewalk. He pushed harder after he was comfortable in his seat, turning from his school in the direction of the park.

As he rode, he didn't take much time to notice the activity going on around him. Toddlers rode their tricycles, parents were watering their plants, and cars blasting heavy-bass music drove down the street, but Richard didn't see any of it. His excitement to get to the library drove him on like a marathon runner.

After riding down the long neighborhood street, and a winding bike path, he came to the wrought-iron gates to the park where, not too far off, partially hidden in the lush trees, were the tall marble columns of the library doorway. Richard shoved his bike towards the building, where he quickly fastened his bike to a thick tree trunk, and started up the stairs past the two stone lions guarding the doorway. They both glared right ahead, while the tree branches cast their shadows on them, making their thick stone manes seem to waver just slightly.

He pulled the doors open, and strode inside, feeling the rush of warm air while the doors drifted closed behind him.

Richard's footsteps clomped hard on the library floor, while he started for the front desk.

At the edge of the tall oak desk, Richard stood on his tiptoes to look over the counter. He was surprised to find it empty; Mr. Dewey should be right here.

"Hello?" Richard called out. "Mr. Dewey, you here?"

Answer, came there none.

Then, from the aisle behind him, there came a creaking sound, mixed with low squeaking, and footsteps clicking on the floor. Gradually, the noises got louder, and louder, until Richard could feel the presence of someone standing just inches behind him.

He turned, to find the sparkly, gleeful face of Mr. Dewey.

"Richard Tyler," he whispered, grinning at the boy. "What sort of adventure do you want to have today?"

"Homework, first, Mr. Dewey," Richard said, starting towards the aisle that would lead to the sitting area where he could find a table.

"Ah, yes, that's right," Mr. Dewey said, pushing the book cart further towards the front desk, where he stopped and leaned against it wearily.

"You okay?" Richard asked him.

"Oh, yes," Mr. Dewey answered in a wispy voice. "Although, every day gets longer and longer. It's not that often during the day, you know, that people come through here."

Richard suppressed a chuckle. Perhaps that was because Mr. Dewey tried to guess a little too much at what people needed, when he met them. That was a peculiar talent of his, and Richard could remember very well how Mr. Dewey had guessed his need- he hadn't.

"Gee, that's too bad," Richard said instead.

"But something tells me I have a regular," Mr. Dewey said, proudly. "I have never seen someone come by here so often as you do."

"Maybe," Richard answered, readjusting his bag strap. "I…I've had more adventure in here than most kids in my class." He had to cover a half-smile-half-grimace, when he remembered what sorts of things he had encountered within the library before.

"No need to finish, I know what from," Mr. Dewey interjected. "In any case, never mind me. These books need to get back onto the shelf."

"Sure," Richard said, taking a side-step away from the front desk.

In the meantime, Mr. Dewey had absentmindedly reached into the pocket of his sweater vest, and removed a large, circular object the size of a padlock. While Richard stepped in the direction he wanted to go, Mr. Dewey gazed a little forlornly at the object, turning it over and over in his hands. The strange artifact sparkled bright silver and white in the light from the chandeliers above.

Maybe it wasn't having no company in the library that made the old librarian so weary, but this old piece of metalwork. It was heavy in his pocket all the time, and, truth be told, he honestly didn't use it too often. It was much, much older than he was, and now that he thought about it, its unique value might make it better in the hands of a child.

A child with a growing imagination, perhaps.

"Richard?" Mr. Dewey called after him.

Just as he was about to enter the archway into the sitting area, Richard turned. "Yeah?" he asked loudly.

"I have something I think you might like to have," Mr. Dewey replied, waving the silver object above his head.

Richard blinked a couple of times at the old librarian, but he walked back to him anyway.

When Richard had come back, Mr. Dewey held the heavy silver object down to him in open palms, as though it were a sacred treasure.

"Hmm. It kind of looks like the old pocket watches I saw in my history book," Richard noted, pushing his glasses up for a better look, and feeling the silver chain that dangled from one end of the object.

Mr. Dewey chuckled. "Maybe so, my boy. But this is far from being an ordinary pocket watch." He extended his hands farther down so that the object fell into Richard's hands. "Go on. Open it up," he encouraged gently.

Richard did as he was told, pushing his fingernails into the crevice running all the way around the heavy object. He pried it open, and a silver lid opened up, like a compact. On the other half of the object, an ornate silver arrow trembled in its place, pointing towards a curvy "N" at the top.

"It's a compass," Richard murmured.

"Correct," Mr. Dewey proudly said. "And a very special compass at that, made exactly from the same model of the compass inlaid on the rotunda floor."

Richard grinned in awe, turning the compass over and under in his hands. The face of the compass had curly sparkly letters marking the directions, while the surface of the face was made of heavy marble. That was particularly interesting to Richard, who stroked his fingers across the smooth marble with fascination.

"This is neat," Richard murmured. "But, where exactly did you get this? It looks almost like an antique."

"Perhaps the next time you open a book, you'll find out," Mr. Dewey said. "But I can't waste your own time talking about it, when you can be starting your own adventure now."

Richard frowned at the compass. Once more he looked it over, feeling the smooth, shiny surface, and watching the way the chandeliers threw their light on the marble in abstract forms. So, Mr. Dewey wanted him to keep around a compass, while he read? Richard looked in each direction the compass pointed in; the only purpose he could think of for it was to keep him from losing his way within the labyrinths of shelves.

But, perhaps he ought to just hang onto it. He couldn't even consider handing it back to Mr. Dewey right this minute; it would be too easy for him to be sentimental about it.

"Well, thanks, Mr. Dewey," Richard said instead, closing the compass, and clenching it in his hand.

"You're most welcome," Mr. Dewey said, bowing his head and walking behind the front desk. "Well, you know what to do. Adventure awaits you."

Richard nodded before he quickly strode back towards the sitting area. When he was far away enough, he lifted the compass to eye level, and shook his head. He felt maybe he would never be able to understand how Mr. Dewey's mind ran. A silver compass like this couldn't possibly be meant for him. It looked too ancient, too expensive, for Mr. Dewey to simply give away.

By this time Richard had arrived at the sitting area, but when he sat down, he didn't take out any of his schoolbooks. After plopping down in a chair, he held the compass by its chain in front of his face, where it swung back and forth like a pendulum.

He shook his head again. Maybe he ought to just put the thing away and get started; he dawdled anymore, and he would have to stop early and head home.

Shrugging helplessly, Richard stuck the compass in his bag pocket, and removed the first textbook he grabbed from inside, plucking a pencil from the notebook spiral.

But what he didn't notice, was that the compass sparked with a jab of blue lightning when it touched the library books still in his bag.


	2. The First Time In

**Chapter 2**

Tromping in through the front door, Richard dragged his schoolbag to the mud room, dropping it on the floor before he turned to the kitchen. The heat of fresh steam brushed his cheeks while he entered the archway, and the sound of the whirring fridge door whirring greeted him warmly.

"Perfect timing, Richie," his mother said, opening the microwave door, and putting a paper plate with a bun inside. "I thought I'd make hot dogs tonight, since apparently you came home so early."

"Early?" Richard repeated, pulling out a stool at the kitchen island.

"You're back early from the library," his mother explained. "Usually, we have to wait a lot later for you to break yourself away from all those books. You must be starving by now."

"Well, I am, a little bit," Richard said, after some hesitation; his mind was still on the silver compass sticking from the front pocket of his bag, the chain dangling to the hard-wood floor.

"Okay," his mother said, reaching into the fridge for the ketchup and mustard. She set them on the counter before she plucked an apple from the fruit basket next to the microwave. But while she reached for a knife to slice the apple, her expression fell into deep thoughtfulness.

"Hey, Mom, you okay?" Richard asked, leaning forward across the counter in interest.

"I'm just thinking, about you, Rich," she said. "I feel like ever since that night with the big storm, things have just been…well, not quite the same. You know, I honestly never thought I'd see the day when you would bring a group of boys home for a movie and popcorn and video games."

"I guess I had to talk to them sometime," Richard said, shrugging his shoulders. "They're not really a bad bunch of guys."

"I can see that. But, it's…it's so…amazing, for lack of a better word, to see that you're not so afraid of the world anymore. I mean, playing ball with the boys on the playground, and…talking to them on a regular basis. That's a pretty giant step for you, Rich."

"I know. Still, it's…not like I didn't fight a few dragons to get there. Or, turn over some new stones." Richard played with a fringe of his blonde hair sheepishly.

His mother gave him an odd look, but her growing smile was still there. "I suppose you did," she said. "Still, Richie, I'm proud of you. It obviously takes a whole lot of courage for you to make so many changes."

"Thanks, Mom."

"I'm glad. Here's the apple, and some milk. Five seconds left on the microwave."

…**..**

Later that night, Richard snuck into the mud room and picked up his schoolbag, hauling it up the stairs to his bedroom. His parents had already bid him good night before they went to their room, but in all the excitement from Richard's father that Richard had finally managed to catch a baseball without fleeing, his schoolbag with the compass inside had been forgotten about.

His footsteps were muffled on the carpeted stairs, but his heart was slamming into his throat. No matter how much he had told himself that there was nothing mysterious about the compass, it actually seemed to embed itself deeper into his mind. Mr. Dewey's face, when he had handed Richard the compass, was hard to ignore just the same- the glow in his eyes, and the knowing behind his smile- left something in the back of Richard's head. After the strange thing that happened to Richard the first time he had entered that library, didn't help to make it go away.

When he was finally in his room, with the door shut tight, Richard dumped his bag on his bed and slowly yanked the compass out by its long chain. Even in the dim of the night, the compass's silver surface still found a way to sparkle, making Richard's skin turn an icy blue color.

He pulled the lid open, and, gently, he set the compass on his desk. The ornate black arrow pointed to the wall behind the desk, boldly standing out, against the snowy white marble of the compass face.

But then, Richard stopped. He pulled his glasses further up his nose, and kneeled down to observe the face of the compass. Sure enough the black arrow was pointing where he thought it was.

However, the needle was still pointing at the bold "N", where, in this case, was actually east.

Richard snatched up the compass, and looked it over and under another time. Wasn't a compass supposed to always point north? Yeah, he thought, the arrow always turned to the strongest point of the earth's magnitude, and that was towards the north. But the compass, no matter which direction he moved it, still pointed at the "N".

Richard tried again to make the compass work, by shaking it, and smacking it against his palm. The black arrow never pointed anywhere but to the wrong direction.

"Huh," Richard whispered, putting the compass sullenly back on the desk. "A compass that doesn't work. Figures."

He was just about to turn around, to pull the covers back from his bed, when Richard saw the book that Mr. Dewey had recommended to him from the library. It was falling out from the front flap of his bag, with the many dog-eared pages sticking out from the cover.

What was that Mr. Dewey had said about the compass, and reading a book?

Curiosity seized Richard once more, and he pulled the book from halfway between the zippers. He switched on the desk lamp, and opened the front cover as he sat down, with the compass glowing bright beside him in the light. Sweeping his hair from his face, he read the front page.

_The Wizard of Oz_

_L. Frank Baum_

Richard blinked twice. Had Mr. Dewey really given him _The Wizard of Oz_ as a recommendation? He hadn't known that the old librarian would make such a simple suggestion, but still, it didn't surprise him that he was given a classic.

He knew the story well enough. Dorothy, the girl in the blue gingham dress, and Toto, her dog, are taken away to Oz, where they meet all kinds of strange creatures, all the while working to defeat the Wicked Witch of the West, after Dorothy's farmhouse lands on the witch of the East.

An interesting enough read, he guessed.

His heart pounding, Richard turned the next page, and started to glaze over the words. Slowly, but surely, the story started to take shape within his mind. He read of the wide-open, grey prairie, with Dorothy's lonely house in the midst of it all; Uncle Henry and Aunt Em were not quite the most joyful people, but Toto always made Dorothy's sweet laughter ring through the land.

Then there was the twister, which took Dorothy's house away from the dreary Kansas, and finally, to the enchanted land of Oz, in the middle of the Munchkin City.

That was as far as he got, before he started to nod off, his head falling to his desk, with his hand folded over the yellowing pages of the book.

But before Richard felt himself fall thoroughly to sleep, he jolted himself back up. In that instant, he didn't need to look at his bedside clock to guess what time it was. The heaviness of the late night was all around him, and he decided getting into his pajamas would be a good idea.

Richard pushed out his chair and grabbed the silver compass, placing it on the open pages to mark where he was. When the silver surface touched the aging paper, the front cover immediately stuck to the compass like a magnet. But Richard was already opening his pajama drawer while that happened behind his back.

Reaching inside, Richard plucked out a pair of striped pajama bottoms, but he stopped suddenly. He peered curiously at the wood of his dresser where, slowly, a shadow of his form started to take shape, against a gentle blue glow from behind him.

But what could be glowing that color in his room? He didn't turn anything on, and there was really nothing that exact color in there, except for the compass.

The compass.

Dropping his pajamas, Richard turned around, and gasped, hard enough to constrict his throat, at what he saw.

On his desk, the open compass was glowing the unusual shade of a silvery, icy blue. Where it stuck to the book's pages, the words were swimming, like the page was underwater. Tiny sparkles of white were fluttering like fairy dust around the cover, twirling in increasingly complex moves, while the face of the compass shone brighter than ever. Lines of white light crawled over the pages, and all over Richard's desk, spreading in patterns as intricate as spider-webs.

Richard, paralyzed where he was, hesitated to move towards the strange object, but when he did, he saw that the compass's arrow was ticking around the perimeter of the face, like a clock hand. It never really spun- it just clicked at a second's interval.

When the arrow finally hit the "N", the compass stopped glowing, and Richard's desk light went out.


	3. Dorothy and Toto

**Chapter 3**

That instant of darkness was longer than Richard ever imagined a moment without light to be. It felt like his bedroom had altogether disappeared, and there was nothing left in the world but a powerful, cold draft. It instantly brought a scream to the back of his lips, straining at his throat, before he thought to make a grab for the compass. But his hands fumbled around fruitlessly in the darkness, before he absolutely couldn't stand the suspense anymore.

"Hello?" he cried out on instinct, before thinking about what could possibly have happened.

Then, the light slowly began to come back, along with the warmth of the world; that was, whatever had happened to the world when it was dark.

And with the light, there came a gentle blinking of an icy blue haze, like a spotlight through dirty water. Richard didn't think twice about following the light, as he wanted to get back to normality as quick as he could. Reaching out, he was surprised that he had plucked the light from out of midair, but the haze felt hard and metallic.

That was because the compass had been there, hovering in midair like a flying saucer.

"What is this?" Richard asked, looking deep into the compass's face, which was still glowing but not ticking its black arrow. In fact, the arrow was just trembling again, pointing towards the "E".

To make sure he wasn't just seeing that, Richard walked in a whole other direction, watching the arrow keenly. The ornate arrowhead quivered shortly, before it turned to point another way.

"It works," Richard breathed.

But his breath was instantly lost again when he looked up from the compass. The light had returned to the world around him, but he didn't see his bedroom walls anymore.

Instead, he was in the middle of several patches of green grass, and trees that were bursting in bloom with exotic-looking fruits. Flowers lined a long, deep blue bank that flowed just nearby, their petals pushing outward to the sky in gowns of brilliant colors. The water of the bank whispered beneath the flowers like a child singing itself to sleep. The sky was cloudless, although broken just beyond by a couple of mountains.

"Wow," was all Richard could say.

But then, the compass got hot in Richard's hands, and he jumped back a step, letting go of the compass. In an instant, he prepared himself for the crash, shutting his eyes and tensing his hands, but he didn't hear a peep from below.

The compass rose with a low _shing _sound, glowing bright yellow while it hovered just inches from Richard's contorted face. When Richard felt a gusty wave of heat brush his face, he opened his eyes to see the compass hanging in midair with its chain waving around, like a tail.

Carefully, Richard reached out and took the compass back into his hands. "Did _this_ thing make my face hot?" he wondered aloud, not taking his eyes off the twitching arrow. As if in response, the compass blinked white, the light moving up and down the face as though the light were one giant eyelid.

"Hmm," Richard murmured, moving carefully to stick the compass into his pocket. But suddenly, he felt a searing burning when the silver surface touched the denim of his jeans, and he flinched back, glaring in frustration.

"Geez, fine," he said, keeping the compass out in his closed hand. Richard let out a long sigh, and squeezed the compass tentatively. He looked around, confused, wherever the silver instrument had taken him; he had no idea he would end up with such a sensitive compass. Maybe he should have asked Mr. Dewey if any of his three book friends were checked in again. Fantasy would be pretty happy to be back in such a pretty place, and Horror would have fun romping through those flowers. Though, Richard couldn't be very sure about Adventure; there probably wouldn't be enough lusty danger for him.

Sighing again, Richard turned on his heel and walked towards the edge of the riverbank. He was about to lean over to look into the pretty, blue water, when he heard the loud creaking of a door, not too far away from where he kneeled down. The compass glowed a bright yellow again, looking like a tangible beacon inside of Richard's fingers.

Not very far from him, there was a tiny, ratty farmhouse, which rested atop a short stump of grass, starting to dismantle in some places. A pile of fraying shingles lay near the grey farmhouse door, where a young girl, in a gingham blue dress and sparkling silver shoes, accompanied by a little black dog, was walking out. Richard heard a low clicking in the door, before the girl turned around, placed the key into her pocket, and started away from the house.

Before Richard could react to noticing her, her eyes turned towards his, and she yelped, almost dropping her basket, and stumbling backwards onto her behind. The black dog barked loudly enough to scare away some birds in a nearby tree.

"Oh, I'm so very sorry," the girl said, putting down her basket, and readjusting her pink sunbonnet. "Are…are you a Munchkin too?"

"No," Richard said, getting to his feet. "I'm Richard. I actually just got here. But, I think I might know just where I am."

"I do," said the girl. "You and I are in Oz, in the part where the Wicked Witch of the East used to live. My name is Dorothy." She gave Richard a gentle grin, before she leaned down and stroked the wiry black fur of her dog. "Toto, no, please don't bark like that anymore! This is Richard. He will not hurt you."

Toto barked once, but then wagged his tail, panting sweetly towards Dorothy.

"Where do you come from?" Dorothy asked, standing back up. "I didn't see you when I met the Munchkins a few moments ago."

Richard hesitated to answer, eyeing the glowing compass in his hand. "I…I don't really know," he finally said. "But, I guess, if you're willing to believe me…"

"I'd like to hear," Dorothy said, folding her hands together over her basket handle. "Suppose you were blown here by a cyclone, like I was?"

"No, no!" Richard blurted, remembering all too well how afraid he was of those. "It was the compass. Here, you see? It's glowing now." He held out his hand, and uncurled his fingers to reveal the glowing compass, its lid closed over the face.

"Oh, my," Dorothy gasped, putting her hand over her lips and leaning closer. Richard then pried open the lid, and the magical face of the compass glowed back at Dorothy, with a few blinks of yellowish light.

"Goodness," Dorothy breathed, reaching out a finger. The closer she approached the compass, the brighter it shone against her curious face. And the minute she touched it, she shuddered, looking at first to be a little uncomfortable.

"You okay?" Richard asked.

"It's very warm," Dorothy noted after a second, stroking her finger across the surface of the face. "It feels like the sun is reaching down from the heavens, and…taking my hand. It's one of the most amazing things I've ever felt."

"Really?" Richard was holding the compass, and he didn't feel like the sun was patting his hand. Well, that figured; the compass _had_ almost burned him when he tried to put it in his pocket.

"Yes," Dorothy answered surely. "Who gave it to you?"

"A librarian I know." And then as Richard spoke, his voice swelled with some kind of enlightenment. Once more, he remembered Mr. Dewey's face when he had handed over the compass, and how anxious he seemed for Richard to take it and use it. Maybe this was what the old librarian had been talking about, although the compass had been so ordinary in his hands. Richard could now imagine why that had been- he was now literally going into a book, and a book that Mr. Dewey had chosen for Richard to read. Right after he had gotten the compass.

"What…? What am I doing in here?" Richard whispered, half to himself.

"I'm sorry?" Dorothy asked, snapping Richard out of his thoughts.

"Nothing, that was nothing," Richard answered quickly, snapping the compass closed. "So, um…you were on your way?" He smiled weakly at Dorothy, pulling the compass back to his side.

"Oh, yes," she replied, pointing off towards the yellow brick road amongst all the other trails leading all around Oz. "You see, Richard, Toto and I were about to start our journey to the Emerald City. The Good Witch of the North has told us that the Wizard there will take us back home, to Kansas. Would you like to come with us?"

"Well, now that you mention it, maybe…I should," Richard said sheepishly, before he glanced at the compass. "There might not be much else that I can do here, anyway."

Dorothy smiled. "And you know, if we ever lose our way, your compass will help," she stated. "Perhaps if we should get cold during the night, its light can keep us warm."

"Uh-huh, sure," Richard said. He stole a kind of helpless look at the compass, which was slowly losing its yellow glow. He didn't quite know what that meant, but he doubted that he could command the magic of this compass on a whim. Clearly, it was sensitive to being handled in such a way. But, maybe Dorothy could do something; at least it warmed up to her.

"Come along," Dorothy said to Toto, while she and her dog started towards the yellow brick road, which, Richard began to notice, was actually littered with piles of books beneath the trees. He couldn't help but think: "Well, now I know that I'm _definitely_ not in my bedroom anymore."

Before Richard caught up to Dorothy, he carefully tried to slip the compass into his pocket. Yet again he felt the burning sensation starting up between his fingers, and he darted the compass in front of his face. He felt like he was being growled at by a cranky dog.

"Come on, could you please cool down a little?" he asked his reflection in the silver lid, although he felt a little ridiculous doing so. "I don't know if I can hold you the whole way to the Emerald City."

It was a long moment before the compass flared up, but then gradually made its glow fade away to an angelic gold, and the almost-harsh warmth it had before was now dying down. Though Richard didn't quite feel the sunny warmth that Dorothy had described, he was satisfied with the fact that at least the compass could take requests.

So, slipping the compass into his jeans pocket, Richard jumped off after Dorothy, all the while wondering what sorts of peculiar things Mr. Dewey might have in mind for him inside this tale. While he wasn't that afraid, he just hoped he wouldn't find the Witch lurking in the trees…


	4. Jack Pumpkinhead

**Chapter 4**

For several hours Richard and Dorothy strode down the road, which seemed to glimmer under the glow of Dorothy's silver shoes. Many times, Richard found himself staring at the shoes for as long as fifty paces down the road. They were gorgeous; just the kind of shoes that maybe a princess of Oz might wear.

Suddenly he wondered: _is _there a princess in Oz? It was a great and vast country, so surely there had to be a king or a lord of sorts ruling over everything. The thought struck him so quickly that he opened his mouth to ask Dorothy, when he remembered that Dorothy was as much of a newcomer to Oz as he was.

"Oh, what beautiful countryside," Dorothy said, as they walked through a long line of strange-looking houses. There were blue fences, with large fields of grain and vegetables, surrounding the houses, which were all painted the exact same dainty blue. One after the other, the Munchkins were coming out through their doors, and bowing low, as though they were greeting a king, and not a usual little girl like Dorothy. Still she tried to smile back at each bowing Munchkin as they came, as did Richard, though he still felt strange in these parts.

After they had been passing the Munchkin houses for a long time, Richard took out the compass, which glowed lemonade pink, feeling more than just a little lukewarm in Richard's palm.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Richard said to the silver instrument. "I don't know what you want, so can you please_ try_ to cooperate with me?"

The compass soothed its pink light, which slowly faded to grey. Richard sighed, and dropped his arm to his side again, clasping the compass in a loose grip, as though he was about to drop it. His fingers slowly started to draw away from the compass, finally holding it by the chain, dangling beside Richard like a metal purse.

"Goodness, Richard, this is getting to be a long walk," Dorothy soon said, looking back at him. "And look. The sun is starting to set."

Richard followed Dorothy's pointed finger past the trees and mountains, where the sky was a coral pink, meeting with the shifting blue color of the late afternoon sky. Richard blinked twice at the sky, where now, the sun was falling behind a mountain, making thousands of golden rays span around, like a circular fan in the sky.

"Whoa," Richard murmured. "How…how long have we been walking down this road?"

The compass warmed up quickly, and it blinked on and off continuously, until Richard pried the lid open. To his surprise, the face of the compass lifted to reveal another circular slab of marble beneath it. A clock face, just as ornate as the compass itself, stared back at Richard, the hands of the clock ticking gently.

"Wow, it's getting late!" Richard said, accidentally snapping the compass closed in alarm; it glowed a bright red, searing Richard's hand so that he had to pass it to the other one.

As if on cue, Dorothy slowed her pace, and exhaled deeply. "Phew," she whispered. "I don't know how much further I can walk, Richard. And if you say it's getting to be late, maybe we should stop to rest."

"Why don't we?" Richard agreed, all too quick to sit down on a rock on the side of the road. But he shot back up when something sharp poked him in the behind; the rock was made entirely out of book spines, the cover corners poking up to the sky.

Richard stood up so quickly, that the compass brushed against the rocks with a bang. But when the silver surface touched it, the rocks glowed the same bright silvery white, and then broke apart into several pieces. And when the pieces stopped glowing, they had been transformed into hardcover books, with boldly colored titles and yellowed pages.

Dorothy jumped before she ran to the transformed rocks, but her eyes shone with wonder. "Oh, Richard, look what these are! The compass has changed the rock into books."

Richard held the compass to his eyes by its chain. It glowed yellow, but didn't send off any waves of gentle heat. He observed the smooth silver surface again, but he certainly didn't see it the same way as before.

"This thing tells you where you are, it tells the time, and now it can make rocks into books!" he muttered. "Hmm. What else can you do?"

"I can't believe it," Dorothy said while she glanced over some of the books. She put down her basket, and sat down to open the front covers, while Toto trotted and panted excitedly beside her. "That's such a remarkable compass. I wish I had one like that back in Kansas."

"If you think that it will like you enough," Richard muttered.

"How strange," Dorothy whispered. She was thumbing through the pages of a book, which Richard noticed was titled, _The Marvelous Land of Oz_. "It's a story all about Oz. Hmm, I wonder why some books about Oz might be lying around here."

Richard looked back at the compass. "You want us to read about Oz?" he asked sincerely. The compass glowed yellow, and it stayed that way, before Richard decided to kneel down and look at the book Dorothy was holding.

Over her shoulder, he watched while she flipped through the pages faster. Dorothy's eyes skimmed over the words, and sometimes she ran her finger along the lines while she read them. There were many pictures accompanying the chapters, and those were where Dorothy stopped most often.

There were several peculiar drawings, but where Dorothy halted her turning the pages was when she noticed a tall, slim creature with the head of a pumpkin. There was a face carved into the pumpkin, automatically reminding Richard of a jack o' lantern from Halloween.

"That's certainly a strange looking thing," Dorothy noted, pointing to the picture. "What do you suppose that is?"

Richard held the glowing compass towards the page to read, in the growing dim of twilight. He found a passage near the bottom of the page, and he began to read aloud,

"'_I must give him a name,' he cried. "So good a man as this must surely have a name. I believe,' he added, after a moment's thought, "I will name the fellow 'Jack Pumpkinhead'!'"._

Then suddenly, Dorothy shrieked, while the book started to vibrate, and tumbled to the ground out of her hands. From out of the pages, shot a giant pumpkin, with the facial features of a jack o' lantern, and an entire body to go with it, leaving the book behind to tremble and shake.

Richard and Dorothy looked up at the great stick figure that had emerged in front of them, who stumbled around just a little while getting his bearings. Finally, he stood still and twisted his pumpkin head the right way with a low crunching. This peculiar creature wore purple pants, a red shirt, a vest with white polka dots, and long stockings sticking up from his shoes.

"Uh…hello," said Dorothy first, standing up and trying to give a sure grin to the pumpkin-headed thing.

The creature turned its head, and looked down upon Dorothy. Then it waved its hand jovially at her, its pumpkin face widening happily. "Oh, hello," it said, in a low, but warm, voice. "Where did you come from? As I recall, you weren't here a moment ago." It turned its head around, and frowned helplessly. "And neither was I."

"You came from out of this," Richard explained, picking up the book and holding it out for the pumpkin creature to see. "You're Jack Pumpkinhead."

"I know that I am," Jack said, "it's the name that my creator, Tip, gave me when…" He stopped, and slapped a hand to his mouth in surprise. "How did you know?"

"We read about you," Dorothy said gently. "We didn't know that you would come out of the book."

"Are we still in Oz?" Jack Pumpkinhead asked, looking around once more.

"Yeah," Richard answered. "We're going down the yellow brick road to find the Emerald City."

"The Wizard will be there," Dorothy continued. "He's going to use his magic powers to send me and my dog, Toto, back home."

"Yes, Tip told me all about the Emerald City," Jack said warmly. "It's in the very center of Oz, where the great Wizard ruled a long time, until a Scarecrow was offered the throne by the people there. Everything there is supposed to be a glorious green." But slowly, Jack Pumpkinhead's excited smile drooped, and his shoulders slumped. "But I fear I may never see the beauty of that place."

"What do you mean?" asked Richard.

"I am color-blind," Jack said sullenly. "Tip and I were once in the Country of the Gillikins, where everything, he said, was purple. I could only see grey. Just like I can now."

"How dreadful," Dorothy said sadly. "Well, at least you aren't altogether blind. I can't even imagine what that would be like."

"No, I am not," Jack agreed, while some light seemed to come back into his hopeless expression.

"My name is Dorothy," Dorothy said, smiling up at Jack.

Jack perked his head up, like an anxious dog. "Are you the Dorothy who destroyed the Witch of the East? Who…who came here all the way from the big, outside World?"

"Yes," answered Dorothy.

"Well, then, who is your friend?" Jack asked.

"I'm Richard," he replied. "I'm from the real world too."

Jack scratched his head for a moment, as if trying to think harder than ever. "Were you blown here by a cyclone? Oh, dear me!"

"No," Richard said. "I came here by this." He held up the compass, which instantly glowed sunshine again.

"Oh, my!" Jack Pumpkinhead exclaimed, shielding his eyes, even though there was no real need to. "What _is_ that?"

"It's a…well, I don't know what to call it," Richard said, lowering the compass to open the lid. "It's a compass, but it's also like a pocket watch." He hesitated to say the next part. "It talks to me through light and warmth, too."

"Oh, how extraordinary," Jack said. "Did the Wizard give it to you?"

"I've never met the Wizard," Richard said. "We're on our way to meet him, remember?"

"Ah, yes, perhaps, but wherever did you get it?" Jack wanted to know.

"A librarian," Richard answered.

"What is a librarian?" Jack asked, scratching his head again.

Dorothy giggled, and reached for Jack's hand. "Well, why don't we sit down now?" she asked, having taken a look at the darkened sky, full of stars. "We're quite tired from our long walk, and you can join us if you want to."

"I'd be most delighted, thank you," Jack said. "And then, if you please, you can tell me all about librarians, and what sorts of things they do in the World. But please speak kindly, and slowly. I may get confused."

Dorothy giggled but Richard only groaned, putting away the compass, and picking up the open copy of _The Marvelous Land of Oz _from the ground. He followed Dorothy and Jack Pumpkinhead under a thick tree, and sat down, pulling the book open. He sat several inches away from them, so that he could concentrate on his task. He also made sure to read and turn the pages quickly, so no extra characters would come out.

He reached into his pocket, and pulled the compass out by its chain. Holding it above the book, the silver light cast its glow onto the yellowing pages.

"If Jack Pumpkinhead wants someone to explain things all the time, I'll give him someone to talk to," Richard thought, while he thumbed through the book. He zipped his eyes across every line, searching for a description of a creature with raggedy clothes, a patchy face, and a body stuffed with straw…

But soon enough, Richard found himself reading aloud, "'_…To be more explicit, the initials mean that I am Thoroughly Educated'…_"

"Richard, aren't you going to sleep?" Dorothy asked gently. "I'm pretty sure it's time for us to rest a little."

Richard looked over those words so deeply that he didn't hear Dorothy at first. But still, he looked up, and noticed that Dorothy was lying down upon the grass, with Jack Pumpkinhead sitting beside her. He was looking down on her like a careful father, observing her while she closed her eyes.

He looked back into the book, and then back to a solemn-but-innocent looking Jack Pumpkinhead.

"Have I got a present for you, Jack," Richard whispered, as he set the book down, with the pages still open.

With the compass, held by its chain, over the book, Richard watched while the book started to shake and tremble.


	5. HM Wogglebug TE

**Chapter 5**

Once the book had ceased to vibrate like a nervous dog, a large, spindly-fingered hand with white kid-gloves poked out from between the pages. It made a grab for the covers, and hoisted itself out of the book entirely. In the darkness, there was a flash of color of the bright clothes that the creature was wearing, and it was at this moment that Jack Pumpkinhead looked up in alarm. He stood still, and peered at the enormous creature that had escaped from the book.

Richard was surprised too. Here before him, was an enormous bug-like creature with two long feelers on either side of his head, that curled in like long pig tails. A long, purple top hat stuck up from between the feelers, crowning a face with two large and buggy eyes; a curly antennae was the nose between the eyes. Around his round belly, he donned a blue-and-yellow coat, with a starched-white waistcoat beneath it. He wore no pants, but from the calf-below, his legs were black-and-brown striped, like stockings.

"Oh, dear," the creature spoke up. Unlike Jack's, its voice was high and squeaky, just as one might have expected an insect to talk.

"Dorothy! Dorothy!" Jack cried, shaking Dorothy's shoulders. "Wake up!"

Dorothy yawned as she stretched awake from the grass, with Toto following her lead. She grumbled sleepily as Jack struggled to awaken her.

"What's the matter, Jack?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Young Richard is truly an unmarked Sorcerer," Jack exclaimed. "Look at what he has brought from the storybook!"

Dorothy sat up and looked before her at the life-size insect standing proudly between her and Richard.

"Good evening, child," the bug spoke again.

"Oh, my!" Dorothy and Jack exclaimed at the same time.

"Oh, no need for alarm, please," said the bug, bowing and tipping his hat. "Indeed, I hope that you are enjoying excellent health. Permit me to present my card to you." Reaching into the pocket of his coat, the bug handed Dorothy a tiny index card, and she strained to read it in the dark.

"Richard," she acknowledged, crawling over to hand the card to him. He held up the compass, and read the card by its light.

"'Mr. H.M. Wogglebug T.E.,'" he said.

"And I am also wonderfully pleased to meet you, good boy," the Wogglebug said, bowing once more. "That is, if I may inquire your name?"

"I'm Richard, Mr. Wogglebug," he said. "And that's Dorothy, and Jack Pumpkinhead."

At his mentioning them, both Dorothy and Jack stood up, curtsying and bowing in turn. Toto barked nervously, but he didn't cower.

Dorothy picked her dog up in her arms. "Excuse me, sir, but I've never seen a bug like you before," she said. Have…have you always been as tall as a real man?"

"That, child, is a long and extraordinary story," Wogglebug said, winking at Dorothy. "If you wish to know it all, well, I suppose I shall sit down and tell you. May I do so?"

"Please do," Dorothy said, patting the spot beside her.

Wogglebug then sat down on the grass with them, and started to speak, while Richard scooted closer to both hear the story, and to observe a little more about this amazing insect.

"I was once an ordinary Wogglebug, my friends," he said, if a bit regretfully, though his voice was by no means unpleasant. "I shall not go into what life was like before, for it is, in my opinion, most unfavorable. I was cold, and I was lonely. But that all came to a glorious halt the day I wandered into a schoolhouse- the schoolhouse, that is, of Professor Nowitall, no doubt the most famous scholar in all of Oz.

"I enjoyed my time in that schoolhouse, for my new home, near the fireplace, was a hundredfold more than what the summer sun had ever given me. But what is more important, is that I had good access to all the lessons given by the professor. Day after day, I listened to him speak of the wonders of our world, and I found that acquiring such knowledge was a marvelous feeling, beyond anything I'd ever experienced."

"And that is why you are thoroughly educated, isn't it?" Richard interrupted. "What the 'T.E' in your name means."

"Precisely," Wogglebug said, nodding his head in acknowledgement. "It's an expression of my degree. And I'm proud to say that there may never be another wogglebug like me, with such knowledge and initiative."

Wogglebug paused before he continued. "Now, you shall find out what it was that made me so much larger than any Wogglebug you've ever seen before.

"You see, I was crawling along the hearth one day, and before I could get away, Professor Nowitall had caught me in his fingers. He asked the class, if perhaps they had ever seen a wogglebug before. And promptly, after every student had answered that they hadn't, he placed me under a magnifying glass, where the students could see me. At which point, when the Professor presented me, I had become as highly magnified as the students saw me." He stopped speaking for a moment, and scratched a finger against his head thoughtfully. "Although, my size must have frightened the students, for two girls sitting on a windowsill had fallen out into the grass. And while everyone was racing over to retrieve the girls, I saw my chance to escape. I hopped off the table, and ran away into a grove of trees nearby. I haven't set foot in that schoolhouse, since."

"That is an extraordinary venture," Jack remarked. "It's fortunate indeed, Mr. Wogglebug, that you have been granted such brains. I wish that I could have had such an opportunity."

Wogglebug looked towards Jack Pumpkinhead, grinning. "Thank you for that kind remark, my good friend, but you know, you are not so unfortunate as you think. Granted, you carry many, many seeds in your pumpkin head. I suppose you should be thanking that your creator didn't carve out your head; otherwise you probably would not be able to tell that I sit beside you and your friends."

"That is true," Jack noted. "Brains in general terms are a good thing to come by, I suppose, even if they are not as magnificent as yours."

Dorothy, who had been sitting so very quietly throughout Wogglebug's speech, finally perked up her head, her eyes widening for a second. "Mr. Wogglebug?" she said.

"Yes?" asked the Wogglebug.

"Since you have such more knowledge about Oz, than any of us do, do you think you could join us on our trip to the Emerald City?"

Wogglebug scratched his head thoughtfully again. "Well, my child, I must confess, I never considered going there before. I've heard all about the Emerald City, but it would surely make for a fantastic journey."

"Yeah," Richard piped up, suddenly. "If you know all about the places and creatures in Oz, you could help us make the safest route on the yellow brick road."

"I _am _equipped with swift thought," Wogglebug noted.

"Exactly," Richard said. "And speaking of weird and unusual things, do you think you can tell me about _this_?" He reached beside him, and held up, by its chain, the compass.

Wogglebug gasped, and touched one finger to the compass, as though gently pointing to it. "Indeed, my boy, this is an object of awesome magic," he said, noting the tender glow and the warmth of the silver. "But you must be a boy of great magical expertise to have obtained something like this."

"No, I'm not," Richard answered. "I mean, I know that this thing speaks somehow through how warm it is, and what color the light is around it. But, I don't know just where it came from, or where Mr. Dewey might have gotten it."

"Who is Mr. Dewey?" Wogglebug wondered aloud.

"The old librarian who gave this to me," Richard said and, when Wogglebug leaned closer in fascination, he relayed to the giant insect, Mr. Dewey's instructions on using the compass, how Richard had come into Oz, and his confusion regarding the purpose of having come, with the compass in hand.

Wogglebug sat thoughtfully, his buggy eyes turning towards the compass, while he didn't move the rest of his body. He stood that way long enough, that finally, Jack and Dorothy moved to be sure that he hadn't blanked out altogether. Richard had to lower the compass as his arm grew tired, finally clunking the compass back onto the grass; its light turned pink again.

"My boy, I'm afraid I can't say such a device is familiar to me," Wogglebug said. "Of course, its magical ability is clear, but I've never seen its equal. Nowitall never taught his students magic, as only the Witches of the North and South know how. However, there is an essence of life within the silver- that much anyone can say for certain."

Dorothy leaned suddenly against the tree, and put her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wogglebug," she said, "but why don't we talk more about this on our walk to the Emerald City, tomorrow." Finally, she fell to the ground, and cuddled her legs up to her chest.

Wogglebug nodded respectfully. "I suppose you are right, Dorothy, child," he said. "Once we have been able to rest, I shall explain further the matter of the boy's compass. And, also, perhaps you could explain how I came to be with you all, from out of thin air."

Richard sighed deeply, half-moaning. He pushed the book towards Wogglebug, and laid himself down upon the ground near Dorothy and Jack Pumpkinhead.

"Look into it, if you want," Richard offered. "But be careful; something might pop out at you any minute." He cringed at the thought of more random characters coming out, when he closed his eyes; Toto trotted up, and lay down between him and Dorothy.

Wogglebug smiled gently at Richard. "I think that perhaps I can take such a responsibility," he replied. "But, if I am to journey the long way with you all to the Emerald City, it wouldn't be prudent to get too far in. Though, I should like to."

"Whatever you decide, Mr. Wogglebug," Richard murmured.

Wogglebug looked at all his sleeping friends, and slowly laid the book on the ground beside him. Then he lay down on his back, and looked up at the dim stars far above him, while he slowly closed his huge eyes to sleep.

"Mr. Wogglebug?" Jack Pumpkinhead's voice suddenly asked.

"Yes, what is it, my friend?" Wogglebug replied, turning his head to look at Jack.

"I was thinking; if we all go to the Emerald City, and I were to ask the Wizard for a wish, would he grant it, as well as Dorothy's?"

"Oh, I'm quite certain he will," Wogglebug said softly. "If there's anything about the Wizard that I know, is that he will surely do his best for others."

"I hope," Jack said in a low, solemn voice. "For, if Dorothy says that Oz is as pretty a place as anywhere, I should like to have color brought to my eyes. I want to walk out of the Emerald City, with grey out of my sight, for good."


	6. A Journey

**Chapter 6**

The following morning, Richard, Dorothy, and their new friends were on the road quickly. All the way down the road, Mr. Wogglebug talked of his adventures since leaving the schoolhouse, and what sorts of things they might come across on their way to the Emerald City. Jack Pumpkinhead walked lankily beside Wogglebug, asking of his assurance that he would get his wish from the Wizard. Wogglebug only gently tapped Jack on his shoulders, and told him to be patient.

Richard stayed at the back of the group, with the compass floating beside him, clutching the copy of _The Marvelous Land of Oz_. He tried to take careful note of their surroundings, as it was all so glorious, and that he wanted to know where to go back to the Munchkin City, in case the Wizard couldn't grant their wishes. At one point, he had to explain this logic to Dorothy, and she had to keep from laughing.

"Richard, how can you think like that?" she wanted to know. "If the Wizard is as kind as the Sorceress from the South said, then surely we can't be mistaken."

"I'm just trying to be safe," Richard explained.

Wogglebug turned to face Richard. "You can't doubt what no one is absolutely sure about," he said surely. "The key is to be optimistic, my good friend."

"Well said, Mr. Wogglebug," Jack said humbly.

Richard didn't say anything, only shrugging.

"Unfortunately, the same can be said for your compass," Wogglebug said softly. "I've been contemplating this situation as we've been walking, and it's still extremely difficult to place what this thing could possibly be."

"Even with your superior knowledge…?" Jack asked, a little hopelessly.

"Afraid so," said Wogglebug. "As I've said, it's something only a great Wizard or a great Sorceress can work on their own knowledge. In a way, we are like young children with a complex, brand-new vehicle on the streets of New York City. Who knows what we could walk into?"

Jack gave Wogglebug a look that seemed to say he was standing in the presence of a god. "What kind of a place is New York City?" he wondered aloud.

"The most bustling city in the United States of America, my friend," Wogglebug explained. "Actually, it would not surprise me a bit to think that this compass came to be in such a place. There are so many kinds of people there, nothing is ever the same two days in a row."

Richard shook his head. "Um, Mr. Wogglebug, I really don't think this compass came from New York. It would have to come from somewhere in this world, because there is no magic in my world."

Mr. Wogglebug craned his head to look at Richard. "Maybe that's because you have never seen real magic in your world," he said. "It's easy to believe that things don't exist because you have never seen them, my young boy. That's why we must keep open minds, no matter what world we are in."

Jack nodded, as did Dorothy.

"But, I can only hope we reach the Emerald City soon," Dorothy stated, brushing some stray hair behind her ears. "My Aunt Em and Uncle Henry must be so worried right now."

"Never fear of that, my dear," Wogglebug said sweetly. "Since you have saved our land from the Witch of the East, we at least owe you a way back to your home."

Dorothy smiled.

And so the group walked on, but, despite the bright sun, the countryside they walked through became dismal and dark. There were fewer houses that they walked past, and less people to greet. Even Wogglebug, who walked forth with a confident smile upon his face, looked kind of disheartened.

"Surely Oz once looked so lovely right here," he said.

No one spoke again while they moved through the land, gradually coming upon a forest, which was divided by a great ditch in the road. There were rocks at the bottom of the ditch, and was wide enough that they couldn't merely step across it.

Dorothy shivered in her shoes, nearly dropping her basket. "What shall we do?"

Wogglebug shook his head, as did Jack Pumpkinhead.

"For…if we tried to jump, we might surely be killed," Wogglebug said thoughtfully. "My exoskeleton cannot likely withstand those rocks, and we can't risk letting the compass get dented." Richard gulped at such a thought.

"Well, then…what is there to do?" asked Jack nervously.

As the group pondered, Richard noticed that the compass was glowing a bright pink, as if it were agitated by something. It tugged hard at Richard, struggling against the hand that held it close. Richard pulled back at the compass's chain, to get it back under control, before suddenly, he was lifted high into the air, held only by the compass chain.

Dorothy and the others looked up at Richard, who was floating in the air, screaming blue murder at this unexpected behavior.

"Richard!" Dorothy yelped. "What is happening?"

"Why would I know?" Richard asked, waving his arms frantically.

"No. Stop!" Wogglebug exclaimed. "I believe we may have found a solution to our problem."

"How, Mr. Wogglebug, sir?" Jack asked meekly.

"It's easy," explained Wogglebug. "The compass can carry Richard high into the air, and then hold him there—for how long, I can't be sure—perhaps a few hours at a time. Now then, what if we could all hold onto each other, as the compass hauls us up and over the ditch? That way we have an easier means of travel, and we will be safe from whatever other dangers might await us on the ground."

"It's worth a try," said Jack eagerly.

"Richard, come down, please!" Dorothy called to her friend, and just as quickly, Richard was lowered down by the compass. He held on tight, and then, Dorothy took hold of Richard's hand, placing Toto in her basket. Jack and Wogglebug took hold as well, and Richard tugged on the compass's chain. As if it were lifting only him again, the compass carried the group high over the ditch. Richard was also quite shocked; aside from holding onto Dorothy, it felt as if he were hardly carrying anything—Jack Pumpkinhead and Mr. Wogglebug were almost as light as feathers, making this quick new journey easier on his arms.

Richard breathed deeply, watching the land that the compass flew them over. The compass wrapped its chain tightly around his fingers, so as not to let go, as Richard scanned the countryside. The forest—from which he heard several different roars—was vast, but beyond, he could see the markings of a field of flowers. It was just as vast as the forest, but much more fertile, and colorful. Trees lined the yellow brick road, swinging with exotic-looking fruits, and from below him, Richard heard Dorothy moan with pleasure seeing such delicious fruits.

Finally, the compass dropped them behind the forest, just at the start of the road that ran through this new brand of country. Everyone in the group had to slit their eyes just to see three feet in front of them, so bright were the colors of the flowers.

"I can't believe this," Dorothy said, in utter rapture. "I don't know if I've ever seen such beautiful colors before. We never had flowers like these back in Kansas."

"We don't even have these kinds of flowers in my neighborhood," said Richard, remembering all the prize-winning gardens his neighbors planted, some of which had included some pretty fantastic flowers. But the poppies in the grass outdid those petty things rather immensely.

"Come, one and all, let's not dilly-dally," said Wogglebug cheerily. "We are one step closer towards reaching the Emerald City, and having our greatest wishes granted."

"Quite right, Mr. Wogglebug," said Jack Pumpkinhead excitedly, and he started an awkward stride onto the road surrounded by the flowers.

The rest of the group followed Jack, but the moment that Dorothy and Richard stepped upon the road, a spell of drowsiness—stronger than any other—hit them over the head, like an off-target baseball. Richard instantly felt as if he hadn't slept in days, although he slept fine the previous night. His eyes started to fall closed, staggering on his feet. Dorothy had the same reaction, as she stumbled towards the soft flowers.

"Dorothy! Richard!" exclaimed Wogglebug, just as Dorothy and Toto fell asleep upon the flowers. He stretched his arms to pick up the girl, but he struggled immensely, only managing to make Dorothy roll over in the plants.

"What's happening…to us?" Richard asked, before he found himself collapsing into the grass.

"The flowers," Wogglebug quickly realized. "There are so many of them, that their scent is casting powerfully upon you—in the equivalent of a witch's spell. Oh. Oh, my. This is not at all good!" He shot up, and directed his voice at Jack Pumpkinhead. "Come and help me, Jack! We must get Richard and Dorothy out of here before they lose their stores of strength!"

Jack turned his head around and, at hearing Wogglebug's call, scrambled towards him. When he did, he found that he had as much luck lifting the children from the ground as Wogglebug had. But with some effort, Wogglebug and Jack were able to get the children to their feet, as the compass wrung its chain around Richard and Dorothy's wrists to keep them standing upright.

Wogglebug eyed his children friends wearily. "I know not how much longer we can keep them going this way," he said to Jack. "Much less, how much farther we have before we reach the Emerald City."

"It can't be too far, can it?" asked Jack.

"Doubtless, my friend. Doubtless," replied Wogglebug. "But for now, all that's left to do, is get somewhere safe before anything else happens."


	7. Into the Emerald City

Chapter 7

It was a long struggle for Wogglebug and Jack Pumpkinhead, to carry Richard and Dorothy all the way through the poppy field. Wogglebug, being a living, breathing creature, found he couldn't survive against the smells of the poppies, so his eyes drooped more often than not. Fortunately for Jack, being made of cloth and a pumpkin, couldn't sense the smells as much as his insect friend, so he didn't feel sleepy at all. But his lanky limbs didn't make helping Wogglebug easy.

By the time they had escaped the poppy field, all four of the friends were asleep in the grass under a tender tree, resting the remainder of the day, the whole night, and far into the morning of the next day.

Dorothy, the first to fall asleep, was the first to arise when the dawn came. She stretched and yawned, wiping the dirt and leaves from her gingham dress. Beside her, Toto opened his mouth in a yawn, crossing the grass to lick Richard's face.

Stirring restlessly, Richard wiped the slobber from his cheeks, rising up from the ground, followed by the compass. Dorothy giggled as Toto trotted back to her, and she handed him a little sliver of bread to eat for breakfast.

"Morning, Richard," Dorothy said gently, as she reached into her basket. She took out another piece of bread, this time spreading it with butter. "Here, have some breakfast."

Richard took the bread from Dorothy, biting into it. He smacked his lips in light of putting something into his stomach, for he hadn't realized how hungry he had become. "Thanks, Dorothy," he said between bites, to which Dorothy only nodded and smiled.

Mr. Wogglebug soon awakened, followed by Jack Pumpkinhead. Dorothy offered bread to both of them, and Wogglebug was too happy to oblige, though Jack refrained from eating, mentioning that since he was only an animate object, he did not need to have breakfast. Throughout their meal, Wogglebug spoke to both Richard and Dorothy, making certain that they felt all right after succumbing to the smelly spell of the poppies. To his surprise, neither of the children quite remembered falling asleep; they both simply felt as if they had had a good night's rest. Wogglebug had to breathe a deep sigh of relief, for this meant their adventure could easily move forward. And in any case, the green morning glow of the city beyond brightened the day just a little more.

"Do you see that, everyone?" said Wogglebug. "The Emerald City is just beyond! No doubt by the end of the day, we can enter through the gates, and see the Wizard."

"That would certainly be nice," said Jack. "Why, I think I can already see the lovely green the city is made from."

"Keep on dreaming, my friend," said the Wogglebug. "Surely, we are that close."

Once the group had finished eating, they continued down the road, led by Wogglebug. The yellow bricks in the road gleamed in the sun, giving everyone in the group a happy, yellowish glow from below. It almost made the compass look wholly yellow, as if it were a merry object for once. And indeed, it seemed like that, for it didn't pull on Richard, or burn his hand that held the chain. Richard smiled, glad that he didn't have to deal with such antics, because he was anxious enough to get to the Emerald City. From where he and his friends stood, they could see the green glow of the walls creeping closer, as they began to pass some rows of houses that were colored the same green as the nearing city walls.

At long last, the glimmer of the yellow brick road upon the group was replaced by that of gleaming emerald, because the gates to the city were studded so with brilliant jewels of green. Dorothy went up the gates, and upon noticing a bell, pulled it. The great doors began to open, and promptly, they were greeted by a Munchkin-sized man dressed all in green. Even his skin looked a little green, though he didn't look sick. Rather he looked strange and otherworldly.

He skittered up to Richard and his friends, and looked up at each of them in turn. "Yes, yes, what is it I can do for you all?" he asked.

"Please, good sir, we would like to see the Wizard," answered Dorothy.

The little green man stepped back an inch or so. "The Wizard, right?" he said. When the company before him nodded, he shook his head, confused. "I can't remember when last anyone asked to see the Wizard. What sort of favor would you have to ask of him?"

"Things of tremendous importance, little man," said the Wogglebug. "We all have wishes that it seems only the Wizard can grant. Please believe me when I say that they are not frivolous deeds. Why, one of them is merely to return to a whole other place far away from Oz. Surely you think that the Wizard would be so kind as to grant that favor?"

"I would like to gain some colored vision," Jack Pumpkinhead piped up suddenly. "That way, I would be able to see how beautiful the Emerald City really is."

"Thank you, that sounds like a wonderful idea," said the little man quickly. "Now, I do not know when the Wizard shall see you—if he shall see you. But since it is your wish, you must come in. First, you must have these." He gestured to a box he carried beside him, which was filled with pairs of green glasses. He found pairs for all four members of the group, locking them around their heads—so as not to be blinded by the bright green of the city, he explained.

And so, the company was led through the Emerald City, and even with their glasses on, the brilliance of the city could not be easily masked. Richard squinted behind his regular glasses, not believing he had ever seen anything so bright or beautiful before. Even the grass growing between the houses could not compare with the grass he knew from home, it was so green and lush. Dorothy especially was glad to see such beauty, after knowing the grey prairies of Kansas her whole life.

Jack Pumpkinhead limped alongside them, while the Wogglebug took in the sights. They were all so entranced that they gasped when they were led to a soldier standing erect outside a door. The little guardian who had led the company spoke a few words to the soldier, and then he was gone—to speak with the Wizard himself.

They waited anxiously, until the soldier returned, explaining that the Wizard could see them—that was, he would see them individually—in the morning.

"Tomorrow?" Richard blurted. "But sir, we only just got here. And it's barely afternoon. Why do we have to see the Wizard tomorrow?"

"He needs time to prepare for you, I am certain," replied the soldier. "It is not too often that he has such abrupt, and outspoken, guests."

Richard shook his head, as he stepped up to the soldier. "Is there any chance he could make it fast? He can't take that long to prepare for us, if we are just going to ask questions."

"I cannot say that I disagree with Richard," said the Wogglebug. "Our requests would perhaps take no more than a moment or two to ask, and we will be on our best behavior with the Wizard. We promise we will not make trouble, as we are sure he is a very busy man." At this, Jack and Dorothy nodded certainly.

"Do you _all _have requests?" asked the soldier.

"I would simply like to return to Kansas," said Dorothy.

"And I would wish to change my vision to colored," said Jack.

Richard and the Wogglebug remained silent.

The soldier looked between Dorothy and Jack Pumpkinhead, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "I do not know for sure, but the Wizard may be able to make an exception for just two wishes. I shall give him the message."

He went away, and then returned just as quickly as before. And when he came back, he asked if perhaps Dorothy would like to make the first visit.

In a moment of pure joy, Dorothy said goodbye to her friends; she had been so excited that her lips barely brushed Richard's cheek. And there at the gate, they were made to stay, but the soldier accommodated them by beckoning for some comfy cushions to be brought to them. And so they plopped down upon their seats, sighing with relief to have come here at last.

"Do you think he will do it?" asked Jack Pumpkinhead. "Do you suppose he will really grant Dorothy's wish?"

"No doubt of it, my friend," answered the Wogglebug. "If he is so wise and great, there is no one else who can do it."

"But there is something the Wizard may want us to do," said Richard suddenly.

Both Jack and Wogglebug looked to him. "Oh?" asked Wogglebug. "And what sort of thing would that be?"

Richard sat up straight and looked at both his friends, choosing his words carefully. "In order for Dorothy to get what she wants, or I guess what she and Jack want, the Wizard may ask us to do something. And I'm guessing that that something may involve killing the Witch from the West."

Jack gasped, almost falling over face-first. Wogglebug just stared at Richard, putting a hand to his mouth in utter shock.

"Whatever gave you such an idea, Richard?" the Wogglebug wanted to know. "I don't see what the Witch would have to do with any of this."

"Neither do I, I just guess the Wizard thinks she should be gone because she is a bad witch or something," said Richard. "It's something that we will have to do so that you guys can get your wishes."

"You speak with such certainty," noted the Wogglebug. "Are you certain you are not an expert Sorcerer with the gift of foresight?"

"I just know these kinds of wishes need something extra," Richard explained.

Wogglebug looked away from Richard, his eyes far off, as if pondering what he had been told. Richard didn't know if the life-size insect believed him about not being some kind of magician, but he was definitely taking into account what sort of deed they would have to accomplish.

"I still cannot see what the Witch of the West has to do with returning Dorothy home, or transforming Jack's sight," noted the Wogglebug, "but I suppose we shall have to see what Dorothy has to report to us."


	8. The Witch's Spies

_**Chapter 8**_

"Richard, my good boy, you astound me!" said the Wogglebug suddenly. He and Richard had been discussing tactics for the unexpected proposal of going to kill the Witch of the West. And Richard had mentioned something that had caught both the Wogglebug and Jack Pumpkinhead off guard so much that Jack almost started laughing. The Wogglebug just tapped his finger against his mouth, twitching his antennae thoughtfully.

Then, the door next to them flung open, and Dorothy came stumbling through, the rims of her eyes turning pink as she slumped down upon the steps.

Wogglebug stood up quickly, followed by Richard and Jack. "Dear Dorothy," exclaimed the Wogglebug. "What on earth happened? Was it the Wizard? Was he unkind to you?"

Dorothy shook her head as she wiped her hands across her cheeks. "No, no, Mr. Wogglebug, he was not unkind, although he was truly as terrible as they say he is. He said that we would only get our wishes granted if he we did something for him. We must destroy the Witch of the West."

At this, the Wogglebug looked from Dorothy to Richard, a certain gleam in his eye that combined both shock, and yet amazement. He then looked to Dorothy, using his finger to wipe any tears falling from her eyes.

"Come and sit down close to us, Dorothy," the Wogglebug said gently, helping Dorothy to her feet. "We have been talking whilst you were with the Wizard, and Richard has proposed a most unusual tactic against the Witch. Actually, he was the first to guess at what the Wizard would ask us to do in order for our desires to come true." He turned his gleaming eyes to Richard. "And it would seem his prediction has come true after all."

Dorothy also looked at Richard as she was set down beside Jack Pumpkinhead, who also put his arms comfortingly, though clumsily, about her. "How did you know what he would say?" she asked. "How did you ever guess?"

Richard shrugged. "I've read stories about this place," he answered. "I know these things."

"He is a most extraordinary young man," Wogglebug praised him. "But he has stated that the most unusual thing will get rid of the Witch for us. We won't even need to use any weapons or advanced magic against her. We need only to make her touch water, and she shall become like water."

Dorothy choked on the last of her tears, coughing a little. "I don't believe it," she gasped. "Is that all we need to do? Please don't tell me you're joking, Richard."

"No, no," he said. "We just have to find some way to get to the Witch, and dump a bucket of water on her. As long as we all go to her together."

"How can that work?" pondered Jack Pumpkinhead. "I never imagined it was that simple to kill a witch."

"I suppose we shall only have to see," added Wogglebug. "I cannot imagine Richard wanting to lead us astray, so therefore I will be trusting his word." The great insect stood up, looking towards the gates far off in the city. "Then, why don't we begin our next journey into the West?"

The rest of the group stood up, with Dorothy staying close to the Wogglebug. She had stopped crying, but she was weary from her encounter with the Wizard. Toto barked as if to encourage his mistress to be strong. Jack moved to the other side of Dorothy, smiling down at her when she watched him cross over to her. But he did not forget Richard, for he put an arm around the boy's shoulder, also smiling. Richard blinked back at Jack, before he looked ahead to the gates, where the little green guardian had gone back. Upon the group's arrival, the guardian unclasped their green glasses, and wished them well on the next part of their adventure.

As always, they all stayed together, with the Wogglebug taking up the lead, with Richard and the compass behind him. But this time, they took no road. Rather, they walked through the fields, through trees, keeping to the direction of the west while the sun started to set. Occasionally, the Wogglebug would lighten the determined, tense mood of the group by pointing out something of beauteous nature, or anything unusual that he guessed his young friends had never seen before. At one point, he even found a strange but vibrant flower, and gave it to Dorothy to wear in her hair. She gratefully accepted the gift, and often, she would reach up to play with the soft petals, stroking them between her fingers. Each time, she smiled, her cheeks brightened with the setting sun.

But the group could not go on walking forever. When the sun had gone down, they picked a soft spot close to a cluster of trees with glorious white flowers sprouting between the fruits, and Dorothy shared her bread once more for supper. Afterwards, the Wogglebug bade Richard and Dorothy to sleep, while he and Jack Pumpkinhead kept watch.

And then, from far off in the distance, there came the sound of many pairs of feet bounding through the underbrush. Wogglebug suspected it must be some animal coming through the forest close by, but when he could suddenly see many pairs of eyes glinting through the night, all of which were turning towards him and his friends, he stood up.

"Jack, wake Richard and Dorothy," he said.

But his command came too late, for there came abounding several great wolves, all snapping and clamping their horrible teeth. Wogglebug reached beside him for a stick, throwing it this way and that to fend off the wolves. Jack was scrambling up into the tree with the white flowers, and was throwing the ripened fruits. But Richard and Dorothy were just awakening, coming to find out what chaos was ensuing around them. Toto started barking, and something small and silver started spinning across the space, causing wolves to fall here and there.

Richard backed away from the wolves, while he watched the compass, which had become like a tiny fighting machine, spinning its chain like a whip, and the surface becoming so hot that flames actually spurred from within. It flew so fast that it soon became like a comet, setting whatever it touched on fire.

Thinking quickly, Richard raced for the compass, careful not to reach for it should it come back for him. "Hey! Compass!" he yelled. "Set the ground on fire! A straight line! In front of the wolves!"

The compass stopped right where it was in the air, and then turned to the wolves, which were coming in reinforcements while Jack and Wogglebug tried their best to fight them off. But one wolf had gotten past the Wogglebug's stick, and had bitten upon his tough exoskeleton. The great insect had flinched, but the wolf's teeth had been hurt more by the impact, so that the Wogglebug could bonk the wolf over the head with his stick.

Immediately, the compass zipped down to the ground, flames sparking from its surface like a great star, as it left the ground blazing from the fire. The wolves that had come late drew away from the flames, and those that remained were quickly finished off by Jack and the Wogglebug. Once they had stopped swinging their weapons, Richard motioned for his friends to run, and run they did, until the fire had gone from behind them.

Finally, they stopped behind a few trees, catching their breath, hoping that danger had passed.

"I could not see the wolves watching us until just moments before they attacked," said the Wogglebug. "I wonder if they were sent by someone to take us."

"I should like to think not," said Jack. "I don't like to think that the Witch herself could be watching us traveling."

"I hope that will be the last of her tricks," Dorothy breathed, clutching at her basket and at Toto.

Suddenly, something large and black zipped past Richard's face, scratching at his cheek. A thin line of red stretched on his skin, swelling with blood.

"Richard!" Dorothy gasped, just as another black mass of feathers scraped her face. She screamed, nearly dropping her assets on the ground.

Wogglebug clutched at his stick, swinging it around as more and more shadows of black feathers started to fly around them. Jack looked around, but he could not find a tree with any fruit that he could throw, so he also picked up a stick, trying to fight the same way as the Wogglebug.

"Away with you!" the Wogglebug was yelling, as the compass was starting to fly again. It fought the same way as before, whipping its chain and lighting itself on fire. Sometimes, it latched its chain around one crow's foot, and threw it against a tree, knocking it out dead. But the compass could not hold that tactic against so many crows, and eventually the crows all went for the compass, pecking and sweeping their wings around it, trying to put out its flame.

Richard went for the distraction quickly. He yanked a stick from a tree near him, and reached as high as he could to the crows. One, he knocked into a tree, and the next he threw to the ground. Dorothy joined him, as did Jack Pumpkinhead, and the Wogglebug. Together, while the compass still glowed with fire and flung its chain to and fro, the crows were brought to the ground, laying with broken wings and snapped necks.

But almost right then afterwards, there came a buzzing through the trees, and the group could see a giant swarm of bees approaching.

Thinking fast, Richard pointed at the bees. "Hey! Burn them!" he cried at the compass.

As before, the compass became a mass of flames, twirling and whirling through the swarm. Even its long chain became like a sword of fire, tearing through the bees like they were wet paper. In the meantime, Richard and his friends turned away from the bees, going further and further away.

"Oh, dear heavens!" Jack gasped. "Please, no more."

"I'm afraid you cannot do anything to change that, Jack," said the Wogglebug. "The Witch may not stop attacking us until we give in to her. But we cannot give up. We must keep going. The compass seems smart enough that it can catch up to us once it is through with the bees."

The others ran on ahead, but Richard had to keep looking behind him. He did not want to leave the compass behind, since it had now done so much for him. He wanted to stay and help it, to keep his eye on it while he still fought. So he took up his stick again, prepared to fight should anything more come to harm him.

But just seconds before he had thought to pick up his stick, the compass had flung away the last of the bees it had burned, floating down triumphantly, with the last of its fire dying away into sparks.

Richard did not know how to react; whether he should take the compass's chain, as he did before when it was being a regular flying instrument, or take it like a tender butterfly and hug it to him. He did want to thank the compass for being so helpful, though.

He decided to smile at it, while the compass came down to him with its silver surface cooled enough for him to take hold of. The chain wrapped softly around his wrist, and started to pull Richard in the direction his friends had gone.

They were far ahead at this time, perhaps half a mile or so beyond where they had been viciously attacked. But they continued forth, moving fast, afraid to go back to sleep since so many things had come for them. Still, their weariness was showing. Toto hardly barked anymore. Dorothy was slowing to a walk, and Jack Pumpkinhead was moving more lankily than ever. Even Wogglebug was moving slowly, having to lean his hand against a tree so he could breathe again.

"Simply unimaginable," he murmured. "I should have realized that witch would be a mighty force to be reckoned with."

"Uh, Mr. Wogglebug, I think we all knew that from the very start," said Richard bluntly. "But we should get somewhere where she won't be able to see us."

Wogglebug pulled in a long breath. "I do not know how to say if we will ever be safe again from the Witch," he said, "since she may know that we are on our way to her."

"Here comes something again!" Jack yelled.

Everyone looked where he pointed, and this time, the blood of everybody in the company ran cold. Creatures with great sweeping wings were coming through the sky, faster than perhaps the bees or crows had. Richard looked quickly at the compass, not knowing how perhaps the little instrument could withstand battle against that number of opponents. He recognized who they were, and where they came from—the winged monkeys who would try to take Dorothy and the others captive in the Witch's castle. Dorothy was the one they really wanted, so he would have to do something quick to get her out of sight.

He turned to her, grabbed her hand and the compass at the same time, and gave a little jump. "Fly!" he yelled, and he never felt his feet touch the ground for another moment.

Dorothy cried out a little as the compass took her and Richard high into the sky. She was now clinging to Richard's arm, then to his waist. Richard tried to hang onto her and the compass at the same time, but the chain was wrapped tightly about his hand. He trusted the compass not to drop him, but he was anxious about getting Dorothy away from the winged monkeys, whom he could hear had gotten to Wogglebug and Jack Pumpkinhead. Richard felt a pit in his stomach for not being able to save them from the monkeys, but he felt better knowing that he could at least watch Dorothy. Together, they would be able to stop the witch.


	9. Special Friends

_**Chapter 9**_

The compass flew fast over the land, as Richard and Dorothy still clung tight to the chain, even as it was cutting off the blood flow through their hands. It had been several moments now since they had evaded the Winged Monkeys, and Dorothy was calmly hanging beside Richard. Toto was sticking his little head from her basket, peeking around every once in a while, as if to be sure that his mistress was safe.

Dorothy looked up at the compass, blinking in wonder at the flying instrument. "I don't know what we would have done if we didn't have the compass," she remarked. "I just hope that Mr. Wogglebug and Jack are all right."

"Even if they aren't, we are still going to rescue them," said Richard. "And then, right after that, I think we should send you home."

"You mean we will go back to the Wizard," said Dorothy.

"Not exactly," replied Richard. "It's your shoes, Dorothy. If you click your heels three times, then they will take you back. You just have to think 'there's no place like home'."

Dorothy looked down for an instant at her feet, jerking her head back up so as not to be frightened from the height at which they were flying. But when she met Richard's eyes, she smiled.

"I'm glad you're with me, Richard," she said sweetly, and Toto gave a little bark.

Richard grinned back to her for a moment, proud that he could help. They were so close to the end, he could already see the compass's magic light returning him back home.

His happy thoughts were heightened when he looked ahead, and spotted a grim-looking structure sticking out into the dawn rising in front of it. Some dark mountains jutted out on either side of the castle, looking like a pair of jaws ready to snap shut on the happy light coming into the world.

"Oh, goodness, there it is," said Dorothy, pointing to the castle. "Is there anyone there?"

Richard peered at the castle, searching for any sign of movement while they were carried closer and closer to the outside gate. He braced himself for the landing, as did Dorothy, plopping down on the ground near the gate the moment the compass released Richard from its tight grip. It felt good to stand on solid earth, but when they focused their eyes upon the black castle, the tension of their situation rested heavily on them.

"Where do you suppose we could find the Witch, if we are to destroy her?" Dorothy wanted to know, clutching her basket against her chest.

"I'm scared to say," said Richard. He was afraid to step towards the door, even though the compass was already floating towards it. It started to wrap its chain around the handles, but then it lifted it away to beckon Richard and Dorothy to come to it. Dorothy was the first to step towards it, as the compass pulled the doors open.

The inside was, surprisingly, very normal looking. There were doors all across the hallways that looked to be made of the finest wood in the land, and gave no indication that anyone wicked lived within their walls. Dorothy gasped slightly upon observing these surroundings, craning her head to look for anything that seemed to belong to a wicked witch.

"If I didn't know any better," she said, "I would very well believe that this was the castle of a dark king, and not a witch."

Richard was perplexed as well. Not only was he amazed that this place was ridden in darkness, but he didn't know where they could begin to find the Witch. The place was quiet enough that they could not tell right away whether anyone was watching them, or if they weren't around at all. Still, he didn't dare beckon into the open space; it was time to find the Witch, and then destroy her.

He took one step forward, hoping to find the Witch soon…

Almost the instant Richard moved, he heard a scream from behind, and a lot of Toto's squeaky barking. Whirling around, Richard yelled out too, but not before his mouth was strapped shut by a couple of furry hands. He struggled against his attackers, thrashing his arms and trying to yell through his trapped lips, but then, a green face full of wicked glee closed on him in less time than he could try to breathe.

"Good to see you, little children," said the Witch. She turned from Richard to Dorothy, who froze when she found the Witch's eyes. "It's lucky you happened upon my place, since I was looking for a couple of ripe, young people to work in my kitchen."

Dorothy looked at the Witch with as much courage as she could muster. "Do you have our friends as well?" she said.

The Witch widened her grin. "Your friends don't matter, little child," she told her. "You are here, and so I shall have some good company." She gestured down one hallway, eyeing the Winged Monkey that had trapped Richard. "Take these children to my kitchen straight away."

Richard felt a hard nudge in his back as the Winged Monkey shoved him down the hallway. Behind him, the Witch gave Dorothy a little push, but she never grabbed her, nor scratched her threateningly with her long green nails. Richard watched as the Witch followed her servant down the hall, with Dorothy in front of her. Again, she never touched Dorothy, and neither did the Winged Monkey.

Richard pondered why no one would try to grapple with Dorothy, until the Winged Monkey shoved open a door, and tossed Richard inside. He landed hard on the floor, while Dorothy was merely ushered inside. He barely registered the sound of a door banging shut, until he got up and realized that he and Dorothy were locked inside the kitchen. It was large and spacey, but it was also dim and hot.

"Richard, are you all right?" Dorothy asked, helping him to his feet and swatting away a large insect that had crawled onto his shoulder.

He didn't answer. Richard went to the door, and pulled hard, shaking the knob until his whole body was moving with his yanking. Dorothy pulled him back.

"It's no use," she said.

Richard's frustration rose to his face, and he glared at Dorothy. "Oh, yeah?" he said. "That's coming from someone who hasn't been laid on by a finger since she came here. Why is it that you have been treated like a princess and I get tossed around?"

Dorothy drew back at Richard's rising voice, but she shook her head. "I don't know," she answered. I'm sorry if you're hurt, Richard, but now we are stuck. What do we do?" Toto whined, as if he were asking the very same question.

Richard looked around the kitchen, noticing the sink full of dirty dishes, the soot in the stove, the rats in the corners, and finally drew his eyes back to the locked door. "This could actually be very easy," he said.

"What do you mean?" Dorothy questioned.

"Our very best weapon is right in this kitchen," he answered. "When the Witch comes back, we will just toss a bucket full of water on her. It'll be as easy as that." He snapped his fingers while a smile grew on his face.

…**.**

It took some explaining, but Dorothy felt more inclined to join Richard's plan, although she was still astounded that it could be so simple.

As the two of them washed and dried the dishes in the sink, she kept asking how on earth water could melt a witch, and she was a little more than scared about having to get up close to the Witch again, but Richard did not seem too frightened. And that amazed Dorothy. He appeared so ordinary, and yet he knew so much about Oz, and somehow knew how to dispose of witches in the simplest ways.

No one came to fetch them for more chores, so Richard and Dorothy helped themselves to some food from the pantry, using some raggedy rugs as mattresses when the day passed, and it was time to sleep.

"Water?" Dorothy asked. "That is really all it takes?"

"Well I don't think I can get away from it," Richard said. "Everyone knows about Oz, and what water does to wicked witches."

Dorothy grinned, sighing as she stroked Toto next to her. "Perhaps, one day, I can go to your world, and I can learn everything about the people and the cities, just like I am seeing so much of Oz."

Richard laughed. "I don't know how much of an adventure it will be. Because we would just be going back to the world you come from, and everything will be the same."

"But it can't be the same if you came across your compass," said Dorothy, pointing to the compass floating in midair. "There has to be something extraordinary out there for your world to be different from mine."

Richard sighed, and leaned back to stare at the cold ceiling of the kitchen; no moonlight came through the little window above the sink, so the room was almost totally dark.

"I think there's another reason why our worlds are so alike," he said. "There are actually ways for us to get to magic places. You know, you had the twister, and I have the compass that came from a magic library." Richard laughed a little as he observed his floating compass. "I'll bet my life could be like a book too, since there is magic and unexpected surprises every time I go into the library."

"You're lucky that way," said Dorothy. "I always wished I could have some way of going to another place, but twisters do not come around every single day in Kansas."

Richard thought this over for a moment, before he got up and leaned on his elbow to look at Dorothy. "Well, it's not like you have to be stuck in Kansas. I could probably take you back to my world, and we could go on adventures through other stories."

Dorothy's eyes gleamed, and she pulled in a sharp breath. "Would you do that?" she asked.

"Yeah, I could," replied Richard. The compass glowed a soft pink, and it gently wrapped its chain around Dorothy's wrist, as if to say it would be more than happy to take her anywhere she liked.

Dorothy laid back down, with the compass still holding onto her, and she yawned, while the pink light turned her skin rosy. "Richard," she said.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Thank you," she said. "For everything that you and your compass have done for me, and our friends. I don't know what we would have done without you."

As he turned onto his side to sleep, Richard felt a smile curl across his face. It felt good to be needed, like he had actually done something good for a friend. It was still a relatively new word for him, which made Dorothy's words glow tenfold more in him.

He thought about Jack Pumpkinhead and the Wogglebug. He would not think of this adventure without first remembering them. They were characters that he had not read about, nor seen, for that matter, and honestly, he liked them quite a bit. Wogglebug was smart, so Richard could see himself talking with him for long hours about the most obscure things. And though Jack was wobbly and could not stand upright, Richard couldn't help but admire his determination to protect Dorothy.

And besides, Richard felt he had a duty to help Jack. Dorothy did not have to stop at the Wizard to go home, but Jack still did, if he still wanted his colorful vision.

Richard laughed a little. He could talk with a giant insect who happened to be the highest educated in Oz. He was becoming friends with a person made of fabric scraps and a pumpkin. And soon, he would be dumping water on a witch, and she would afterwards be dead. If he did take another adventure after leaving Oz, this would not be one to forget.


End file.
